Admivi Suviart sat in his entrenched office, staring at the same portrait of his life partner Aleza as he did in the days that he would not hesitate to shoot the very man coming through the door. The situation was complicated, since they were defending more than just their homeland but their captor’s power as well. Yet, as even the Sancta agreed, the Ozians should help repel the invaders, and something underlying that message was using the remaining Gaeanist mobilized forces to continue the fight for independence. At least… That’s what he’d do. The Nihon invaders captured another Libian nation just a few year prior, this nation was warmongering as far as he knew.
For now though, he had to put up with the Harad’zhi coming through that door.
The Harad officer walked into the room, immediately establishing himself as a direct foil to the Admivi. The man was young, his face was bare of facial hair, his uniform was pristine (except for the mud on his boots), and he stood up straighter than the Admivi’s desk. He saluted the Admivi with his two fingers crisply, and then said something about the emperor and his god-thing. His Ozian was atrocious.
“Hello, sir. A divine day is it not?”
“It’s raining.”
“That it is, sir.”
Suviart motioned him to the chair in front of his desk, and the Harad’zhi officer put his absurd hat on the table. Suviart began again, “What are your duties? Why did I get a Harad’zhi?”
“I’m to assist you sir.”
“You’re a bastard that is what you are.”
“Sir?”
Suviart leaned in, in his old croaky voice, “You’re lying to me, you’re a supervisor, and that nice little notepad in your pack with the gold trim is your notes.”
The man shifted uneasily in his chair, “Well,-“
“Shut up, what are the Emperor’s orders?”
The officer lay down a map of the Moacian area, already plotted with lines, “We need your soldiers to advance on these hilltop positions to secure a proper artillery position. Coordinate are-.”
“Spare me, not going to happen.”
“Sir? This is an imperial order!”
Suviart leaned back into his chair, “Why did they draft me if they’re going to tell me how to fight?”
The officer swallowed his nerves, “Well, they said you fought well in the Ozian Demise.”
Suviart laughed, “You’re speaking Ozian to me son, and we call it the troubles.”
“Sor-“
“Shut up, we’re fighting with my tactics. If I understand correctly, I was dragged out of retirement from the warmth of my love to create the same or greater number of Nihon’zhi widows as I did with you Harad’zhi. If this tactic is just some way to kill off large numbers of Ozians, I will shoot you before you try to reach your pretty toy sword.”
The officer sat there speechless, and after the awkward pause, he conceited “What do you suggest sir?”
The Admivi pointed at the map, “I don’t have to suggest, since I’ve already done it. When my scouts saw the invasion, we evacuated Port Lil Sav and set fire to the city. We transported civilians back to Drart by rail car, then transported the 79th, the 40th, and the 31st around the port. Your brilliant Colonel of the Harad division in this area followed the orders blindly, putting himself in the fray by himself.”
“That’s-!”
“Treason? No, we informed him of his strategy, and he went to glory. Your colonel is dead now. “
“How do you know?”
“We’ve already fought this war. You come in here dressed in fancy clothes and an absurd hat! War changed and you haven't yet. These Nihon'zhi haven't got the picture either! They fight for glory, their bayonets are a useless religious symbol, and they charge senselessly. I will not follow that order because it is in violation of the First Listener's military law! Fight with mind. Anyway, back to my strategy. We’ve been entrenching ourselves for the past week, and we ordered a few rats to begin digging into our rear as a falling back position.”
The officer momentarily interrupted him, “Rats?”
“Militia. Now, we let them into the port, the Colonel’s demise could be seen as a blessing, its feinting those Nihon’zhi into believing that they’re actually gaining ground. We are letting them maintain a steady supply of men. We will never advance, and we will retreat when necessary. When they are charging, they will be mowed down by machine gun fire, when they’re scouting my snipers will shoot them down, and when they are sitting on their asses in the trenches they will suffer diseases.”
The officer shifted in his seat again, “But the Imperial Order. I can’t just -refuse-.”
Suviart stood up, then the officer immediately stood. The Admivi upholstered his revolver, pinned it to his throat, and fired. He then placed his pistol on his desk and returned to looking at Aleza. He was too old for this shit.
A subordinate barged into the room with his revolver drawn, he noticed the body on the ground.
“Insubordination?” He asked.
Suviart did not make a sound or a reaction.
“I’ll write up artillery-death,” and the man began dragging him out of the room.